


the hook, when it lands

by venvephe



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexting, Size Difference, and boy does it work on Ten, the Kick It MV is a thirst trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venvephe/pseuds/venvephe
Summary: Partway through the first chorus of Kick It, Johnny takes the center of the choreography, and -shit.Ten drops his phone on his face.Holyfuck. This is a thirst trap. Maybe not a traditional one - most people don’t have anentire music videoto send to a potential hookup - but it’s a thirst trap nonetheless. When the music video ends, Ten releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Dick: hard. Thirst: trapped.So what is he going to do about it?
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 36
Kudos: 604





	the hook, when it lands

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second of my 2020 NaNoWriMo works, which I’m very excited to share! It was an absolute blast to write, though I’m a little surprised at myself that it took this long for me to finally write JohnTen smut. Inspired by Kick It, of course - and first in a series of smut pieces inspired by various NCT music videos 🔥🔥
> 
> As always, all my love to m_writes and andreanna, who were endlessly supportive and enthusiastic as I was writing this. Best writing friends on the planet; you make this SO much fun. Sorry for thirst trapping you so much this November.
> 
>  **Important Note: This work uses a custom work skin!** For the best reading experience, please make sure you can see creator’s work skins and/or hit that “Show Creator’s Style” button at the top of the page!
> 
> Enjoy!

**[Johnny]:** have u watched the mv yet?

Ten squints down at his phone when it pings, swiping away from his Instagram feed to open up his messages with Johnny. Ah, that’s right - Kick It came out today, didn’t it? He and Johnny have both been so busy lately - WayV working on their album, the boys in the 127 unit working on their comeback - that Ten hasn’t been able to keep track of it all. 

The two of them haven’t even had many opportunities to meet up, either, only checking in when they can over coffee or late-night snack runs. It’s been - fine, but not really enough. Ten gets it; it’s the idol life. They’re just always going to be busy. 

So no, Ten hasn’t gotten the chance to sit down to watch the new music video yet. He’d only gotten back from recording at the studio an hour or so ago, and had promptly face-planted into bed after taking a shower. Which is where he still is, Ten isn’t ashamed to say. At least he put pants on, even if they’re only sweatpants.

**[Ten]:** not yet, sry. I can watch it now?

The response from Johnny is so quick, it makes Ten’s stomach do a little flip. He must be waiting, their chat thread open, for Ten’s reply.

**[Johnny]:** u should 😉  


Honestly, there’s no reason that a few words and a winky-face emoji should make Ten’s heart squeeze in his chest like this, but _ugh._ Johnny always seems to be able to draw that kind of reaction out of him.

It’s one of those things Ten doesn’t examine too closely.

As if Ten doesn’t know how to get to YouTube on his own, Johnny drops the link in his next message. Ten smiles, biting his lip as he rolls onto his back, holding his phone up and getting comfortable as the app loads. Johnny must be pretty proud of how the video came out to be sending it to him like this. 

And he should be - Ten knows how hard they’ve all been working. From the snatches of melody and bits of choreography he’s heard and seen from the 127 members, the new song is gonna be a smash hit.

 _Kick It._ Even the name is catchy as fuck. As soon as it’s buffered enough on WayV’s dorm wifi, Ten taps play.

When the music video starts, all bright black-and-yellow and sharp camera cuts, Ten feels his pulse surge. Oh, this is _good._ It’s only a matter of seconds before Ten’s hooked on the edgy sound and stylized visuals - first the silhouettes of various members, then a cool group shot in all leather.

The martial arts-themed stage and the satiny black-and-white costumes make Ten’s eyes go wide. Of course Taeyong slays the opening part - even if the sight of his bare belly and trim hips makes Ten huff a laugh. The slicked-back hair looks good on him though, and _totally_ fits the Bruce Lee vibe.

 _Damn,_ no wonder they had all been so excited - talk about _swagger._

Ten nods along to the beat as Mark and then Jaehyun get their moments front and center; he can tell already that this is going to be a popular dance with their fans. This is high-energy hip hop at its best, complete with memorable outfits and awesome sets.

And then partway through the first chorus, Johnny takes the center of the choreography, and - _shit._

Ten drops his phone on his face.

Holy _fuck._ Ten fumbles for his phone, cheeks heating as he scrubs back through the video to play the opening segment again. Also - _ow._

“What the fuck,” he mutters to the empty room. What the _fuck -_ who thought it was a good idea to put Johnny in an outfit that bares his entire chest, especially when he moves? In a vest that’s barely a vest by definition, obscuring only his shoulders and leaving the rest of his torso on display? Johnny is golden and toned, from the corded muscles in his neck all the way down to his taut abs -

 _Goddamn._ Of course it was a good idea, on the part of whoever did the costuming. It’s just - Ten can’t handle this much of Johnny’s bare skin, at least not in this context. He’s already half-hard and he’s only thirty seconds into this music video.

Thank god Hendery isn’t in their shared room right now; Ten would _not_ be able to live this down. And not just the dropping-his-phone-on-his-face part.

Ten lets the video play, worrying at the side of his thumb with his teeth. In no way does it distract him from the tantalizing visuals every time Johnny is on screen, for better or worse. Though - Ten _is_ actually impressed, and very entertained. The concept for the video is kickass, on top of the song being powerfully addictive. The black and yellow is striking - _everything_ about it is striking.

God. _God._ There’s no way Ten will ever be able to watch this music video in public. And it’s a very good thing he’s at home in bed the first time he’s seeing it.

Taeyong and Yuta arguably show almost just as much skin in their outfits, but no matter where he is on screen, Ten’s eyes keep finding Johnny. Fuck, the way he _moves_ \- the slide of muscle underneath his skin and the clear definition of his obliques, his biceps, his _forearms._ Ten didn’t know he had a thing for forearms, before Johnny. Even the way his fingers are taped up, like he’s ready for a fight, is pretty hot.

Ten swallows thickly when Johnny gets his close-up, pushing his brown hair off his forehead and making sultry eye contact with the camera as he does the Bruce Lee flick off the nose with his thumb.

Ten’s not going to survive this, is he? Not without getting a hand down his pants.

This is - this is doing a _lot_ for Ten. He wouldn’t have said that the theme of martial arts was particularly attractive before this, but _fuck._ That was before he’d seen Johnny’s abs on display for the world to admire, every kick and punch and flex showing off the hard work he’s put into his body and the strength he commands with every move.

And that’s the problem, more than anything: because Johnny’s bare chest and Johnny being confident and stylish and athletic in this music video is giving Ten _ideas._ Ideas of the decidedly X-rated variety.

By the time the song comes to a close, Ten has some suspicions about why Johnny sent the MV to him in the first place.

Because sure, it’s one thing to be proud of what you’ve been working on and to want to share it with your friends-slash-coworkers. Johnny - _anyone_ in the 127 unit - could have just dropped the link in the collective chaotic NCT group chat, for that matter. But it’s an entirely different thing to send your frequent-hookup, maybe-something-more a music video in which your abs steal the spotlight, with frequent cameos from your biceps and nipples. At least according to Ten.

And he’s pretty sure he’s not reading this wrong, what with the winky-face Johnny had tacked on to the end of his original text.

This is a thirst trap. Maybe not a traditional one - most people don’t have an _entire music video_ to send to a potential hookup - but it’s a thirst trap nonetheless. And talk about _trapped,_ all right; Ten’s more than halfway hard in his sweatpants, so flushed he can feel that his ears are warm. He’s so hot and bothered - _literally_ \- that he kicks the blankets down to his knees, even though it’s freezing outside.

The music video closes with a couple silhouette shots of Johnny performing a high kick, abs tensed, and Ten exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Dick: hard. Thirst: trapped.

So what is he going to do about it?

Ten taps back into his chat with Johnny, fingers hovering hesitantly over the keyboard for a moment as he bites his lip, strangely nervous. They’ve been hooking up for a few months now, whenever their schedules line up between practice and recording and touring, but he’s always a little unsure of how to start this. Ten can admit it to himself; he just isn’t sure what this is for Johnny besides fun, casual sex with one of his closest friends.

For Ten, it’s more than that. Or it could be more than that. Johnny’s been the only one he’s wanted for months and months. And not just for the searingly hot sex - though it always is. Because somewhere along the line in their years of friendship Ten got addicted to Johnny’s smile, to making Johnny laugh, to just spending time together. He can’t even say when, it was such a gradual thing. They’ve always been a little flirty with each other, but now -

Maybe the newer addition of physical intimacy was just the spark that set Ten’s feelings ablaze.

Ten shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. God, he’s kind of fucked, emotionally, but he should at least _respond_ to Johnny’s text. What does Johnny want him to say? _Awesome music video, Johnny! A+, ten out of ten, can’t stop thinking about rubbing off on your abs now! Among other things!_

Actually, there are probably worse ways to go about it. But he settles on something a little more tame, at least to start with.

**[Ten]:** wow  
**  
[Johnny]:** good wow?  
**  
[Ten]:** VERY good wow 👏👏 that choreo is fire, you really killed this concept  
**  
[Ten]:** you personally. damn 🔥🔥  
**  
[Johnny]:** thanks 😎 thought u would like it  
**  
[Ten]:** you were amazing, of course i liked it  
**  
[Johnny]:** yeah? how much? 😉

Ten frowns at his phone, blushing impossibly harder at just the implication. Curse Johnny and his stupid winky-faces - he’s being a tease and he knows it. Does he get some satisfaction in pushing Ten to come out and say that the whole thing is unbearably hot?

Knowing Johnny, he probably does. And turnabout is fair play. So why the fuck not?

**[Ten]:** well i'm hard just from watching it through the first time so

The string of eye emojis he gets from Johnny in response only makes Ten huff.

**[Johnny]:** 👀👀👀👀👀  
**  
[Johnny]:** just the first time? 😉  
**  
[Johnny]:** come over

Ten shivers. Maybe because he can hear the words in Johnny’s voice, a husky whisper at the back of his mind. It’s a voice Ten is particularly helpless in fighting against - even if going to Johnny _does_ mean a short jaunt out in the cold to get to the 127 dorm. While hard as a fucking rock in his joggers, which hide very, very little.

Goddamnit.

In the end, Ten doesn’t just like Johnny’s body: he likes _Johnny._ And regardless of the weather, or the state of his anatomy, that’s what gets him out of bed before he even replies to Johnny’s last text.

Those pecs certainly don’t hurt, though, when it comes to convincing Ten. Mmm. He’s going to have to make a ranked list of what he actually wants to do tonight.

**[Ten]:** you had better kick Hyuck out of your room in the next 8 min then  
**  
[Ten]:** unless he really wants to watch me rub off on your abs  
**  
[Johnny]:** eager much? 😉😉😉  


Ten rolls his eyes. It’s a good thing he likes Johnny for his personality as well as his body.

The WayV dorm is pretty quiet for a Friday evening; Ten can hear the faint sounds of conversation coming from Kun and Xiaojun and Yangyang’s room, and when he shrugs on an oversized hoodie and strides out into the living room, he finds Lucas and Hendery arguing good-naturedly over a box of fried chicken on the couch between them.

“Heading out? So late?” Lucas asks, raising an eyebrow at Ten’s appearance - his cozy pair of black sweatpants and his favorite hoodie, stolen from Johnny, and his hair pulled back in a short ponytail. 

Hendery grins as he chews, watching as Ten heads for the door and jams his toes into his sandals - with his socks on. “ _Someone’s_ got an appointment, huh.”

“An appointment for what?” Lucas tilts his head, like the biggest puppy on the planet - which, arguably, he is. 

Ten glares at Hendery, pointing a finger in warning as his roommate opens his mouth.

“For the d- ”

“Do _not -”_ Ten says, but he can’t stop the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whatever. I’ll see you later.”

Hendery’s laughter echoes as Ten shuts the door behind him and heads for the elevator. So maybe he’s not subtle - Ten has never felt like he’s had to hide himself from his members, and he knows that any teasing between them is affectionate. But just because they already know about his and Johnny’s…thing, doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be caught in a walk of shame.

Ten’s not ashamed, really. Sex is great. Sex with _Johnny_ is great. And at least he has the decency to try and avoid getting - or making - marks that their makeup artists will have to cover up.

That’s more than he can say of _some_ members of NCT.

Not that he isn’t tempted, of course. Just the thought of Johnny’s bare torso - all golden skin and firm muscle - is enough to make his mouth water, to almost make Ten trip over his own feet. It’s a good thing he didn’t take the stairs down, jeez.

There’s only a block or two between their dorm buildings, but the cold wall of air makes Ten flinch when he opens the exterior door, eyes squinted in annoyance. He tugs the elastic out of his hair and shakes out his ponytail, so at least his bangs cover his forehead as protection against the cold breeze. And then he pulls his hood up, for good measure.

 _This had better be worth it,_ Ten thinks as he shuffles outside, feeling a twinge of regret at his choice of sandals. His toes may freeze off in the March weather, but he’ll get to lick Johnny’s abs, probably.

And honestly, that’s a net win in Ten’s book right now.

His eight-minute guess for the trip over to Johnny’s is an overestimate, if only because Ten moves fast in the chill night air. By the time he’s pushing through the lobby doors he’s sniffing from the cold, fingers curled into the long sleeve of his - Johnny’s - hoodie. From there it’s only a matter of moments, really, before he’s in front of the door to the fifth floor dorm - and Johnny is pulling it open before Ten can even reach out to knock.

Even like this - in a baggy sweatshirt and loose sweatpants, hands in his pockets and easy grin on his face - Johnny makes the color floor into Ten’s cheeks, makes his heart trip over itself in his chest. _God._

At least Ten can blame his blush on the cold.

“Hey! Come in, come in,” Johnny steps aside to let him through, smiling at how Ten pushes his way inside and kicks off his shoes, unafraid to make himself comfortable - and okay, yes, eager to get down to business. “Is it still that cold outside?”

“Yes,” Ten grumbles, nudging his sliders into line along the inside wall, next to the haphazard assortment of shoes. He pushes his hood down, shaking out hair as he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. Ugh. Not sexy, and probably not even cute. “C’mere and I’ll show you.”

Johnny laughs, stepping closer - even though he _must_ know what Ten’s about to do, because he’s been doing it all winter. A little shiver runs through Ten when he has to tilt his chin up to keep Johnny’s gaze as Johnny moves into his space, putting them nearly chest-to-chest. Ten knows he’s strong in his own right - lithe, toned from dancing, thighs that won’t quit. But he’s built in a different way from Johnny, who is just… _big._ Especially right now, with the muscle he’s put on for this comeback.

Mmm, speaking of.

Ten’s grin sharpens when he pushes his sleeves past his wrists to his elbows, sliding his cool hands up under the hem of Johnny’s sweatshirt to lay them against the warm, firm skin of Johnny’s stomach. Johnny gasps; his eyelashes do this pretty little flutter of something like surprise, but Ten knows him well enough to tell that it’s not _just_ at the sensation of Ten’s cool fingertips against him. 

Well, not just the cool part, that is.

“Ah, _Ten_ ,” Johnny smiles wryly, voice already gone a little husky, “one of these days I’m going to get back at you for always doing that.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Ten sticks his tongue out between his teeth, smirking even as Johnny circles those big fingers around his wrists and pulls Ten’s hands away from his body. Like this flirting-teasing isn’t just how their friendship works, like Ten won’t take advantage of Johnny’s body heat at every turn and Johnny will let him, even when it’s not a prelude to sex.

But tonight, it totally is. 

Johnny doesn’t let go of Ten’s wrists, just walks backwards to lead Ten out of the living room and down the hall, towards his shared room with Donghyuck - who is, as promised, absent from the fifth floor. Ten can tell already - Donghyuck is generally audible within a eight-meter radius, so he must be up with Mark or Taeil on the tenth floor.

Good. Ten doesn’t plan on being interrupted, and he doesn’t plan on being _quiet._

Ten swallows as Johnny opens the door and leads him inside. No matter how many times they do this, just the sight of Johnny’s neatly-made bed makes Ten’s heart beat double-time. It’s gotta be some kind of Pavlovian response at this point, which would be more embarrassing if anyone besides Ten knew about it.

As it is, he watches with dark eyes as Johnny turns back towards him and drops Ten’s wrists with an easy smile - only for his mouth to drop open in a gasp as Ten turns the tables, grabbing Johnny’s forearm and _tugging_ until they collide, Ten’s back against the door.

Ten grunts as Johnny’s weight hits him - but oh, not in a bad way at all. Johnny’s managed to get a hand against the wood by Ten’s head, bracing himself as Ten pulled him forward. It has the somewhat-intended effect of pinning Ten there, under Johnny’s larger frame.

Okay, it’s _exactly_ where Ten wants to be - at least, for now.

“Oh, hey there,” Johnny purrs, extricating his forearm from Ten’s grip so that he can run his fingers up Ten’s side, to the warm curve of his neck. Fuck, Johnny’s hands feel so big _-_ and in the moment of pulling him closer, Ten could _feel_ the corded muscle of his arm.

“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?” Ten murmurs, the accusation losing its edge in how rough Ten’s voice already sounds - and they haven’t even _done_ anything yet. He loops his arms around Johnny’s neck, looking up through his eyelashes and relishing the sharp intake of breath that he can feel as well as hear when their eyes meet.

Johnny’s plush lips curve into a smirk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ten. Didn’t you want to watch the new music video I’ve only been talking about for - what, weeks?”

“What I _want_ ,” Ten says, arching his back to press their hips together in a sinful grind, “is for you to hold me up against this door and _fuck me.”_

Oh, _god_. Johnny pushes back, and there’s no mistaking the hardness against Ten’s hip, even through their layers of sweatpants. Ten’s head tips back against the door and he groans, neck bared and starting to flush. Fuck. _Fuck._

Johnny chuckles, but it sounds nearly as breathless as Ten feels. “I thought there was talk about rubbing off against my bodacious abs?”

Ten rolls his eyes even as heat rises in his cheeks. Only Johnny could get away with making such awful jokes mid-foreplay; amazingly, Ten still likes him in spite of Johnny’s sense of humor. 

And maybe a little because of it. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Ten purrs, “I have plans to get you horizontal later.”

“Mm, lucky me,” Johnny hums. Ten shudders at the warm breath ghosting over the exposed skin of his neck. He hadn’t - he hadn’t even _thought_ about how going from the cold outside into the heat of Johnny’s presence would feel. Every point of contact between them is warm, _so_ warm already; it’s only gonna get more intense, when they get skin-on-skin.

 _Fuck,_ Ten can’t wait.

Johnny leans back enough to settle his weight on his heels, so that he can use both hands to cup under Ten’s ass - and lift and press him against the door with their hips aligned. Ten’s stomach swoops at the show of strength, how easily Johnny lifts him like he weighs nothing, how secure he feels in Johnny’s grip and pinned here by Johnny’s firm body. The sleeves of Johnny’s sweatshirt hug his flexed biceps, which - _goddamn_ , Ten can’t wait to get his mouth on Johnny’s bare skin.

Johnny’s grinning, when Ten meets his gaze again - though a flush has started to work its way onto Johnny’s face as well. “Right where you want me?”

“Right where I want _me,”_ Ten replies with a smile, using his grip on Johnny’s shoulders to reel him in closer. It shifts their weight further against the door - which, admittedly, should maybe be something they worry about, what with how it creaks ominously - but Ten doesn’t care.

Not when Johnny’s lips are finally on his.

Ten sighs into the kiss, relishing in the sensation of their mouths moving together. After so long, so many nights spent together like this, Johnny knows exactly how Ten likes to be kissed: slow for only a moment before they go deep, increasing in tempo until they have to break apart, breathe each other’s air. Johnny’s tongue is hot and slick against Ten’s as he explores Johnny’s mouth, nibbles at his lower lip like he _knows_ Johnny likes.

The resulting moan that builds in Johnny’s chest, low and rumbling, sends heat rushing down Ten’s spine to his belly. It’s everything about him - Johnny’s strength, Johnny’s voice, Johnny’s _smell._ Ten would come running even _without_ a thirst trap; he can just never get enough.

It’s all he can do to give as good as he gets, make Johnny feel good, too.

“Fuck,” Johnny mumbles when they separate, smearing his lips along Ten’s jawline and down to the juncture where his jaw and ear meet, sucking gently. He sets his teeth in the lobe of Ten’s ear and tugs in the way that always drives Ten crazy. “ _Fuck_ , you’re so hot, you know that?”

“Who, me?” Ten croons, rolling his hips into Johnny’s with what little leverage he has. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough - especially when both of them are already panting and eager. He bites down on his lip to muffle a moan, unable to keep his smirk away. “Have you seen yourself lately?”

With Johnny’s head tucked into Ten’s neck as leaves open-mouthed kisses up and down his throat, Ten can only _feel_ Johnny roll his eyes rather than see it for himself. “Sure, but I get to look in a mirror all the time. I’d much rather look at you.”

The words go straight to the heat pooling low in Ten’s belly, a knot of tension that’s winding tighter and tighter now that he’s in Johnny’s presence. It’s not just the flattery, of course - it’s that it’s coming from _Johnny._

Ten threads his fingers into Johnny’s hair, tugging until he pulls away from Ten’s neck. It’s absurdly hot, how good Johnny looks with puffy, kiss-reddened lips, shiny with spit. Ten’s cock throbs where it’s trapped between them - and _oh_ , that’s right: Ten has _several_ ideas that are inspired from the Kick It music video, and he’ll be damned if he leaves Johnny’s room before they get to all of them.

So he leans in to give Johnny a quick kiss, pulling away before they can get too distracted by it. Johnny whines at the loss, pupils blown wide when Ten meets his gaze again, and Ten giggles, thready and breathless.

“C’mon,” Ten says, arching one more time against Johnny before loosening his grip, patting at his shoulders. Damn, do his arms feel good, even through the soft layers. It’s probably good for a lot of reasons - but _especially_ for Ten’s self-control - that the only one in NCT who has arms good enough to jerk off about is Johnny. “I wanna see for myself.”

Johnny releases him with a laugh, bending his knees so Ten can slide down the door and get his feet underneath him. Ten ignores the faint wobble of his own knees; he knows from experience that it’s just a thing that happens when he’s with Johnny. _Fuck_ , they’re not even naked yet and Ten feels strung out, flushed all over, his heart hammering in his chest.

As always, it’s just the effect Johnny has on him. _God._

It’s just - for all that Ten isn’t entirely sure what they are to each other, exactly, this part is so _easy._ Being together is so simple, and so good. They giggle as they tumble onto Johnny’s narrow bed together, tangled in each other’s limbs as Ten attempts to squirm as close as he can. 

“Careful!” Johnny laughs, narrowly moving out of the way of an errant elbow. Ten’s successfully straddled Johnny’s thighs, more or less, though it’s a close one with getting his knees on either side of Johnny’s hips, too. As coordinated as they are on stage and dancing, in bed seems to be another story - well, at least on Ten’s part. A knee to the groin is a boner-killer no matter the scenario.

“Get this off already,” Ten huffs, worming his fingers underneath the hem of Johnny’s sweatshirt. _God,_ why are they both still wearing so many clothes? Ten’s going to overheat, for one thing - and he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get to appreciate Johnny’s muscled chest in the next seven seconds. He’d walked over here in the _cold_ for it, after all. “C’mon, c’mon -”

Johnny’s smile threatens to split his face, even as he blushes - and hey, what is he expecting? Of _course_ Ten’s clamoring to see him, with a thirst trap like that. A three-minute musical thirst trap, posted publicly to YouTube, with Johnny's entire chest on display. “Chill, just give me a sec -”

Ten snorts, not stopping the movement of his hands even as Johnny gets a little tangled in his sleeves, trying to help get his clothes _off, off, off._ “Oh _please,_ you know that I have absolutely no ch- ”

Finally, their hands work together, or Johnny manages to tug the fabric just right, because all of a sudden the hoodie is over Johnny’s head in one smooth motion and unceremoniously tossed to the floor, and - 

And _fuck._ Johnny isn’t wearing a t-shirt underneath.

Johnny isn’t wearing a t-shirt, but he _is_ wearing the goddamn black-and-white satin vest he’d worn in the Kick It video.

“What the fuck,” Ten breathes, frozen in place, fingers hovering over the bare skin of Johnny’s abs. The vest is fully unzipped, like it had been in every moment of the MV - and it falls to either side of Johnny’s toned chest, leaving him fully on display.

Like, _fully_ on display. From the delicate chain necklace in the dip of Johnny’s clavicle all the way down the visible center-line of his body, firm pecs and pert nipples and the crease of his abs, the vee at his hips - _fuck._

Ten doesn’t know what to touch first. He feels his mouth water at the sight; god, just _look_ at him.

“Like what you see?” Johnny teases, an eyebrow quirked when Ten’s eyes snap up to his face. But he’s starting to flush pink down his neck, and his eyes have that dark, blown-wide look Ten recognizes. 

Johnny _likes_ it when Ten looks. 

“Shut up,” Ten grumbles, flushing hotly, but it comes out more breathy and turned on - even to his own ears, Ten can hear how much this is affecting him. They’ve always been more than able to push each other’s buttons, but this is just - this is just doing a _lot_ for Ten. It’s like Johnny from the music video has stepped right out of Ten’s fantasies and fallen into bed.

And he more or less _has,_ just for Ten. It would probably be embarrassing if he pinched himself to make sure this is real, right?

“You can touch too, you know,” Johnny continues, and Ten rolls his eyes. 

“I’m getting to it,” he murmurs, putting his hands on Johnny’s taut stomach so that he has enough leverage to circle his hips in retribution. It’s a dirty grind that has Johnny biting his lower lip to stifle a gasp.

Ten can feel the twitch of the cock underneath him anyway, and he smirks. They know all of each other’s tells; that’s part of what makes this _fun_.

Johnny groans low in his throat when Ten does it again, getting impossibly harder where his dick is pressed against the cleft of Ten’s ass. Oh, does Ten love this. “Playing dirty, huh? That’s not very fair.”

“You don’t get to say anything about _playing fair,_ Mr. Music Video Thirst Trap,” Ten says, skimming his fingertips up that beautiful expanse of tan skin. He spreads his fingers over Johnny’s pecs - his hands barely span the width of Johnny’s chest - and squeezes the firm muscle under his palms, grinning at Johnny’s intake of breath. He arches into the contact underneath Ten, a sigh turning into a whine as Ten kneads, feeling him up. Ten licks his lips. “I assume I’m not allowed to leave any marks?”

Johnny huffs a half-laugh, running his hands up and down Ten’s thighs where they’re spread around his waist, the contact warm even through Ten’s sweatpants. “We’re doing Music Bank _and_ Inkigayo in the next few weeks, you probably shouldn’t. If you don’t want to get me in trouble.”

“You’re _already_ trouble,” Ten murmurs, shivering at the way Johnny’s fingertips wander towards his ass, hooking into the waistband of Ten’s sweats just to keep his fingers anchored there. So Ten leans in, dips down to ghost his mouth over Johnny’s chest, a tease at what he’s about to do. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good.”

And before Johnny can reply, Ten gives his left pec a parting squeeze and licks a broad stripe over Johnny’s nipple.

Johnny’s mouth drops open and he moans, fingers flexing against Ten’s hips. Ten doesn’t let up, not as Johnny starts to pant and his chest rises and falls underneath Ten, not when his nipple has gone firm and pebbled in Ten’s mouth. No marks - Ten has to be careful with his teeth, which is too bad; he likes to bite and suck as much as Johnny likes to be the recipient of such attention. 

But Ten knows how to make do.

“ _God,_ Ten,” Johnny groans, pushing a hand up the back of Ten’s hoodie, his palm a warm, steady weight against Ten’s bare back. “How are you - _god._ How are you so good at this? Why do you still have so many clothes on?”

Ten smiles as he gives Johnny’s nipple a parting flick of the tongue, leaving a kiss at the center of Johnny’s chest as he rests his chin there, meeting Johnny’s gaze. “Which of those questions do you want me to answer first?”

It’s Johnny’s turn to roll his eyes, and he paws at Ten’s sweatshirt, pushing it over Ten’s ribs and rucking it up under his arms to get access to more of his skin. “Aren’t you sweating to death? C’mon, let _feel_ you -”

Ten’s stomach does that flutter again at Johnny’s words, and heat floods his cheeks. 

“It’s your sweatshirt anyway,” he mutters, pushing himself upright so that the two of them can get it over his head and onto the floor, with its fallen comrade. When he blinks his eyes open and pushes his rumpled hair out of his face, Johnny’s smile has softened.

“I know,” Johnny says, not sounding smug but instead - something else. Something Ten thinks he recognizes, but doesn’t want to name, doesn’t want to feed his hope without knowing what it might grow into. 

_God._ Ten shouldn’t be getting butterflies from a hookup, and yet. 

And _yet_. Johnny Suh seems to be able to make anything happen, for Ten.

“Now take off your pants.”

Ten sighs, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself as he looks down at Johnny’s shit-eating grin.

“What?” Johnny asks, eyebrows raised as he plays with the waistband of Ten’s joggers again. His hands are big - _all_ of Johnny is big - and the fact that he can get both hands under Ten’s sweatpants to squeeze his ass is some kind of miracle.

It’s also really fucking hot.

“In a minute,” Ten says, bracing his hands on Johnny’s shoulders as he settles his weight again, leaning in to mold them together from chest to thigh. He licks his lips, a shiver running across his skin when he catches Johnny’s gaze dip down to his mouth. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Johnny asks, rubbing circles into the bony arches of Ten’s hips with his thumbs, breath hitching when Ten exhales a hot breath over his wet nipple, still slick with Ten’s spit.

 _I’m really into you,_ Ten doesn’t say. Instead, he shrugs one shoulder and smiles, nosing across Johnny’s chest until he finds what he wants. “Just gotta make it even, first,” he says, and opens his mouth.

Johnny swears and arches into Ten’s mouth, breath going high and reedy as Ten flicks at his nipple with his tongue, lapping over it until it’s pink and shiny and sensitive. Ten pulls back a bit to admire his work, licking his thumb and bringing it to Johnny’s other nipple to tease both at once. If only Ten didn’t have to worry about leaving a mark and could use his teeth - tug a little, leave pretty little bites and hickeys up and down Johnny’s chest -

The makeup artists probably wouldn’t be very happy about it. And to be honest, as much as Ten likes to mark Johnny up as a reminder to Johnny that he belongs to Ten - well.

He also likes that what they have is something just for them.

Ten pops off Johnny’s nipple with a wet sound when the grip on his hips edges just on this side of painful and Johnny can no longer control the way he’s pushing into Ten’s ministrations. It’s quite something, to see Johnny’s back bow as he puts himself on display, eager for more of Ten’s mouth. It’s something he’s never going to get tired of, Ten thinks, even if the sight of Johnny like this makes all the blood rush out of Ten’s brain.

Maybe _because_ the sight of Johnny like this makes all the blood rush out of Ten’s brain.

Ten swallows thickly, squirming upward to find Johnny’s lips again. Johnny welcomes him eagerly, his mouth opening under Ten’s without prompting, curving his hands along the small of Ten’s back to tug him even closer. Ten huffs an exhale, amused; like they weren’t close enough already. He can feel the damp trails where Johnny’s spit-slick nipples rub against his own chest, sweat starting to gather between them.

It’s hard to imagine, now, that he had been freezing cold walking over here. Johnny ignites him like nothing else.

“Didn’t you have something particular in mind?” Johnny mumbles against Ten’s neck, laving his tongue down to the spot where Ten’s neck and shoulder meet. Ten shivers as he feels Johnny start to suck, his cock throbbing in his sweatpants; he may not be able to leave a mark on Johnny tonight, but the reverse isn’t true, and Johnny apparently plans to take advantage of it.

It sure is hard to think with Johnny’s lips on him, though. Especially when he can feel the start of a hickey blooming on his own skin, the sting soothed by the slick heat of Johnny’s tongue.

Ten hums, blinking his eyes open - when had they fallen closed? - as he tries to follow the thread of their conversation. Which isn’t easy to do, straddling Johnny’s lap and spread over him, chest-to-chest, Johnny’s tongue tracing up and down Ten’s neck to suck on his pulse point. He rocks his hips again, grinding into Johnny, unsure if he wants to push back against the obvious bulge of Johnny’s dick in his sweatpants or forward, against - 

_Oh._ That’s right. _That’s_ what he wanted to do.

Ten rolls himself upright, bracing a hand on Johnny’s chest as he pushes a hand through his bangs, away from his sweaty forehead. Okay - and to feel up Johnny’s pecs again, a little. He’s probably been blushing this entire time - knowing the two of them, knowing how his own body reacts to Johnny’s presence and everything Johnny does - but Ten can’t help but feel like he’s flushing even hotter at his idea. 

Johnny quirks an eyebrow at him, chest heaving as he pants. The black satin vest is nearly pushed off his shoulders, spread comically wide like he’s some sort of ravished romance heroine, shirt askew. 

It’s - it’s a really good look, actually. Even if the vest _does_ hide the impressive width of Johnny’s shoulders, the perfect shape of his deltoids that Ten still wants to sink his teeth into.

Anyway.

“I wanna rub off on you,” Ten murmurs, running his fingers down Johnny’s chest to the visible planes of his abs. His eyes go half-lidded at the thought, watching as Johnny’s muscles jump and twitch under the too-gentle caress of his fingers. “If that’s okay.”

Johnny’s throat bobs as he swallows. “I want what you want, Ten,” he says, voice hoarse with desire but still soft, gentle. Honest. He lifts a hand away from Ten’s hip to loosely circle Ten’s wrist, pulling at his hand - only to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to Ten’s palm. 

_God._ Does Johnny have any idea what it does to him, these tender moments mixed into their searingly-hot hookups? Ten’s such a goner for him.

Ten tries to ignore the way the tips of his ears burn. “Okay,” he says, biting his lip, leaning in to leave a brief kiss on Johnny’s lips. Just because.

Johnny smiles up at him - and Ten’s honestly not surprised that Johnny can’t resist waggling his eyebrows, breaking the tension between them with his awful sense of humor.

“So you weren’t kidding, huh,” he grins, “about getting it up from watching the music video -”

“Hush, you,” Ten scolds, setting his nails gently against Johnny’s skin - not pressing, just in warning. It’s really too bad about leaving marks; though actually, if the vest covers up Johnny’s back… “You know how good you looked - how good you _look_. Smugness isn’t becoming.”

“You like me anyway,” Johnny says, flexing his pecs so they bulge just a little more - and yeah, as much as it’s a little laughable, it’s also pretty fucking hot.

“Fuck if I know why,” Ten mutters, amused despite himself, and rises up on his knees to shimmy his sweatpants and boxer-briefs down over his hips.

 _That_ gets Johnny to shut up, at least.

It takes a little more work to kick off his sweatpants completely, but then Ten is naked, looming over Johnny’s prone form, and it makes Ten’s mouth go dry. It’s not just the spread of Johnny underneath him, the cut of his hips and the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms - but the hazy, glassy-eyed look of desire on Johnny’s face, enraptured by _him._

He’s always been fair enough that a blush spreads easily; with Johnny’s gaze on him like this, Ten feels like he’s aflame.

Ten’s cock is hard and leaking a little already, leaving a shiny trail against his belly as he settles down on Johnny’s hips again. The room feels even hotter, somehow, even with more of Ten’s skin exposed to the air - well, more like Ten’s skin exposed to Johnny’s wandering eyes. He doesn’t miss the way Johnny’s hips hitch underneath his, the way the cock he’s sitting on throbs with heat even through the layers.

So maybe Ten arches his back a little, pushes his shoulders back as he gives a gentle rock of his hips. Johnny sucks in a breath like a gasp, head tipping back against the bed, and Ten smirks.

Neither of them are going to last very long, probably, but at least they’re going to have _fun._

“Like what you see?” Ten teases, wiggling a little further up Johnny’s body - and chuckling breathlessly at the whine in Johnny’s throat as he moves his weight off Johnny’s cock. There’ll be time for that later, hopefully. Maybe it’s optimistic, but now that he’s here Ten’s pretty sure he could go for a round two. _After_ getting off on Johnny’s rock-hard abs.

Johnny snorts at his own words thrown back at him, but when he speaks, his voice is low, rough. “You always look good like this,” he murmurs. He licks his lips as his eyes move over Ten’s body - his mouth, his exposed cock. Ten’s heart trips over itself in his chest; he’s not even sure Johnny’s aware that he does it, but he looks just about as ravenous as Ten feels.

“Like what?” Ten asks, shifting the splay of his knees to get more comfortable, anchoring his hands on the bed on either side of Johnny’s head. Like this, he has the leverage to rock his hips exactly how he likes it, grinding against Johnny’s smooth, warm skin. Wordlessly Johnny runs his hands up and down Ten’s sides, thumbing along the ladder of his ribs, fingertips exploring the knobs of his spine. 

_God,_ his hands are so big - and they feel so _good._ Ten wants to feel them everywhere, wants to feel the ghost of Johnny’s touch for days after this.

When Johnny’s wandering hands finally settle, it’s to cup Ten’s hips, fingers squeezing into the plush muscle of his ass. Johnny urges Ten into a languid rhythm of slow thrusts against his abs, a delicious push-pull of their bare skin together.

“Like _this_ ,” Johnny says, his nostrils flaring. His eyes are dark, dazed, pink painting his cheeks in a heady flush. “Turned on. Unafraid to take what you want. Pleasure looks so fucking good on you, Ten. You’re beautiful.”

_Fuck._

It’s probably useless at this point to tell Johnny to shut up again - not when it’s probably clear that Ten’s affected by his words, that he _likes_ to hear these things from Johnny’s mouth. Still - _god._ Ten actually wants to make it through tonight without spontaneously combusting. 

So he goes for a tried-and-true method of getting Johnny to stop talking, at least for now, and goes down on his elbows to seal their mouths together.

They both groan into the kiss, wasting not a moment. Johnny’s fingers flex against the skin of Ten’s hips when Ten sucks on his tongue; Ten shudders when Johnny nibbles at his lower lip in retribution, feeling the head of his cock smear precome on Johnny’s abs underneath him. The change in angle is good, _so_ good - it means Ten can grind into Johnny’s abs and kiss him at the same time, hot and wet. 

And getting wetter. 

“Fuck,” Ten swears; when he leans back, a shiny thread of precome connects the tip of his cock and Johnny’s gleaming, sweaty abs. Just the sight alone is enough to make Ten throb, more precome oozing from the crown, drooling messily onto Johnny’s skin. “Johnny, _please._ ”

He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, not really - but Johnny smirks up at him, guiding Ten into a faster tempo. When he’s satisfied with Ten’s rocking hips, Johnny pulls a hand away - to stick three fingers into his mouth, tongue curling obscenely around them as he gets them nice and wet.

A whine builds in Ten’s throat just from that - and that’s _before_ Johnny reaches down again, circles those big fingers around Ten’s cock to spread the wetness, ease the way.

From his grin, Johnny knows that he’s driving Ten wild.

“C’mon,” Johnny says, giving Ten’s cock a few more strokes before dropping his hand back to Ten’s hip, tugging him even closer. Like this, Ten can rut right into the channel made by the crease of Johnny’s abs, down the center of his belly, soft and firm and warm and sweaty all at the same time. “C’mon, Ten. Live out the fantasy.”

“Maybe my fantasy doesn’t involve you running your mouth,” Ten tries to grumble, but it only makes Johnny chuckle a breathless laugh - yeah. It doesn’t sound convincing even to _Ten’s_ ears; he loves it when they banter during sex. Even if Johnny’s dirty talk usually strays more towards cheesy than properly dirty.

“Mmm, but don’t you wanna come like this? Using my body like you want to?” Johnny bites his own plush lower lip, but it doesn’t stop the smirk working its way onto his face. 

Well, fuck - so much for _cheesy._ Tonight, Johnny’s dirty talk is definitely _dirty._

And it’s probably pretty obvious what Ten thinks of _that;_ his traitorous cock twitches, a shudder wracking through him when Johnny shifts, flexing to meet the grind of their bodies together. 

“God, yeah,” Ten breathes, feeling a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck. This is _really_ doing it for him.

Because yeah - fuck, Johnny looks good. His cheeks are flushed, the pink flooding all the way down his bare neck; the sheen of sweat on his arms and chest make his muscles shine just like they did in the music video. That stupidly hot satin vest is mostly pushed off of his shoulders - Ten’s doing, he knows, rumpling the fabric as he had explored every inch of Johnny’s chest with his fingertips - and caught around his biceps, which only makes them look bigger.

Johnny looks like a wet dream. Of _course_ Ten could come from rubbing off on Johnny, nearly picture-perfect to how he looked in Kick It. There’s no way Ten is getting out of this without a pathological response to martial arts, _or_ the colors black and yellow.

Well, his body already has something of a Johnny complex. What’s a few more Johnny-related things that get Ten hard at the drop of a hat?

Not that there’s any way he’s telling Johnny that, of course. Johnny can probably already read the tell-tale signs of Ten’s body in how much he’s enjoying this.

Admittedly, the signs aren’t particularly subtle. 

Then again - Ten cracks a smirk as he swivels his hips, pushes back against the clothed bulge behind him. He can feel the dampness where Johnny’s cock is leaking through the fabric of his sweats, the sensitive head tucked under the waistband but still obscenely tenting it. Johnny is just as achingly hard as Ten is from all this. 

And that knowledge does a lot for Ten, too. 

“Actually… “ Ten trails off, distracted by the slick glide of his cock on Johnny’s abs, the encouraging tilt of Johnny’s hips underneath him that has Ten’s thighs clenching. He bites off a gasp when Johnny does it again, nearly sending Ten tumbling forward into his chest; Ten catches himself just in time, cock drooling as it slides up Johnny’s abs. He glares at Johnny up through his rumpled bangs; Johnny grins down at him, waggling his eyebrows. “Actually, there was another idea that I had.”

Ten’s pretty sure he isn’t imagining how Johnny’s breath catches. “Oh?”

“Well,” Ten says, feeling up Johnny’s chest, running his hands from Johnny’s shoulders down his biceps to give them a self-indulgent squeeze. “There was this one part of the choreography…”

Johnny quirks an eyebrow for Ten to continue, and Ten smirks. He’s not quite done being a tease just yet. 

Ten grinds down on Johnny’s taut stomach one more time for good measure, arching his back, relishing the sensation. It’s good and wet now, a delicious friction on the underside of his cock, on the sensitive spot where the shaft and crown meet. He tilts his head back, smiling, knowing that Johnny’s eyes are locked on him, on every move he makes.

Tonight may be a little - okay, a _lot_ \- about appreciating Johnny’s body, but Ten knows when he has the upper hand.

And it may not be what he _really_ wants, but at least when it comes to sex, Ten knows that Johnny will give him pretty much anything.

“You know,” Ten says, bringing one hand up to his face so that he can wipe the side of his thumb across his lips, like from the music video. “This.”

Johnny’s eyebrows rise. “The nose flick? It’s a thing fighters do, like Bruce Lee. And it’s the nose, not the mouth -”

Ten dodges Johnny’s hand as he teaches up to try and flick Ten’s nose, snorting at Johnny’s whine when Ten bats his large hand away. “Ah, well, there were some parts of the music video where it looked like you were wiping your mouth.”

“What’s sexy about wiping your - _oh,”_ Johnny’s eyes widen, a smirk blooming across his face as he figures out Ten’s meaning. Of _course_ he’s going to be like this about it. “Somebody has a dirty mind, huh?”

“Oh my god,” Ten huffs, pinching the bare skin of Johnny’s side as he feels his cheeks heat. So what if he _does_ have a dirty mind? It’s not like he can’t get his mind off sex; it’s just, when it comes to Johnny - Ten maybe has a problem.

Also, he’s definitely watched Johnny do that move in bed before, smirking from his place between Ten’s thighs, wiping the slick sheen of Ten’s release off his lower lip and then licking it off with his tongue - 

“What? I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Johnny says, head tilting a little to the side in warm amusement. “You know you can just ask for whatever you want, Ten.”

Ten shivers. If only he could ask for what he _really_ wants - but even the idea of it makes his heart clench under his ribs. Why does Johnny have to just… say his name like that? Like this thing between them is a given?

“Oh yeah?” Ten murmurs, reaches out to wipe along Johnny’s full lower hip himself, a tremor running down his spine when Johnny can’t resist peeking his tongue out, licking at the tip of Ten’s thumb just to be a tease. “And if I want you on your knees?”

“You know I’m good for it, baby,” Johnny’s lips twist into a smirk, and he taps at Ten’s hips until he lifts them, pushing up onto his knees so that Johnny can crawl out from underneath him and rearrange. True to his word, Johnny slides to the floor with ease - all six feet of him, _god_ , Ten doesn’t know how he does it - and tugs at Ten’s thighs, grinning.

Ten swallows, scooting forward but also content to let himself be man-handled. They’ve got this more or less down pat, too - the easy spread of Ten’s legs to accommodate the span of Johnny’s shoulders and chest between them, Johnny’s thumbs rubbing circles into Ten’s skin as he gets comfortable. Their height difference means that Johnny still has to bend to reach Ten’s cock, but for kissing, Ten’s taller for once. The thought makes him smile - so of course he takes advantage of it.

Johnny grins when Ten leans in, meets him halfway - pushing into the pressure of Ten’s hands on his satin-covered shoulders in a way that makes Ten’s belly clench. He presses his own smile against Johnny’s, playfully nipping at his lips, curling their tongues together in a hot slide. 

It almost startles him, when something hard and hot and warm bumps up against his leg somewhere by his ankle.

Their mouths make a wet sound when they part - _fuck,_ that’s always so hot - and Ten tilts his head, taking in Johnny’s flushed appearance, the obscene slickness of his abs that draws his eyes down, down to the obvious bulge in his sweats.

“Are you -” Ten starts, fighting a smile. “Do you, uh -”

Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about me just yet,” he says, skimming kisses along Ten’s jaw, his collarbone, leaving a trail of sensation down the center of his body with a very clear destination in mind. “I wanna focus on you.”

“Well, I want you to enjoy this too,” Ten counters, unable to stop the gasp from leaving his throat when Johnny’s kisses stray all the way to his belly, the wet head of his cock grazing the underside of Johnny’s chin. 

Johnny just raises an eyebrow, glancing down to his own very obvious hard-on. “Does it look like I’m not enjoying myself? Relax. Let me do this for you.”

And, well. Johnny’s already down on his knees, wiggling to make himself comfortable as he smooths his hands up and down the muscular spread of Ten’s thighs. 

Ten really can’t argue with that.

Johnny grins up at Ten through his dark eyelashes, pushing his bangs off his face as he keeps scattering kisses on Ten’s skin - the arch of his hip, his inner thigh, just below his navel. Everywhere except Ten’s cock, fully hard and shiny and pink where it curves up against his belly. Of course Johnny can’t help himself from being a tease. Ten doesn’t mind it, not at first; he’s perfectly content to let Johnny explore his body, suck marks on his inner thighs - _one_ of them may as well have marks to remember this by, if Ten can’t leave any on Johnny.

It’s a blessing and a curse, actually, because it means Johnny is extra thorough, careful to do exactly what he knows makes Ten needy and desperate. He mouths at a hickey he leaves high on Ten’s inner thigh, licking up the crease where Ten’s leg and hip meet. Ten hums, and sighs, and whines, hips shifting against the sheets as the tension in his belly winds tighter with every playful suck and bite. 

And Johnny _still_ hasn’t put his mouth on his dick.

“You’re such a fucking _tease,”_ Ten groans, head tipped back to expose the long line of his throat. He feels Johnny smile into the kiss he’s pressing to the inside of Ten’s knee, big fingers massaging the meat of Ten’s thighs. The muscles twitch under Johnny’s ministrations - he always knows exactly where Ten is most sensitive, somehow - and his mouth makes a wet noise when he pulls away from Ten’s skin.

“What’s the hurry?” Johnny asks, like he’s not steadily working on turning Ten’s brain into horny soup. The corner of his mouth ticks up into a smirk. “How does it go, again? _Let me introduce you to some new thangs, new thangs_ -”

“Johnny, _please,”_ Ten groans, finally giving in and sinking his fingers into Johnny’s short hair and tugging gently, guiding him towards his cock. “ _Please_ use your mouth for something other than that.”

Johnny chuckles, breathless - that dazed, hungry look is in his eyes again as his gaze falls on Ten’s cock. “With pleasure,” he purrs, and leans in.

 _Fuck._ Ten’s never quite prepared for - for _this_.

Johnny’s lips are as plush as they look against Ten’s cock. He kisses the glossy head of it before he parts his lips to tongue along the shaft. Ten’s still pretty slick with precome from before, but Johnny’s mouth is all intoxicating, wet heat, getting him nice and shiny and dripping again within moments. Ten pets through Johnny’s hair, careful to keep Johnny’s bangs off his forehead so he can watch his mouth at work; he looks so good like this, like he was _made_ for this, and from the soft hum in Johnny’s throat, Ten knows that he enjoys it, too.

Johnny curls a hand at the base of Ten’s cock, keeping firm pressure on the parts his mouth won’t reach - though _god,_ just knowing how big Johnny’s hand is against him does so much for Ten. He rubs the head of Ten’s cock against his lips, smiling up at Ten - to watch him flush, probably, at the sight of his cock against Johnny’s lips. 

Which he does, because Ten’s merely a man. A man who is in love with Johnny Suh as much as he’s horny for him, but still. 

Ten’s mouth drops open in a moan when Johnny finally parts his lips and slides Ten’s cock into his mouth, keeping his gaze fixed on Ten’s as he moves down, gives a gentle suck before pulling off completely. He smirks as he jacks Ten’s cock a few times, spreading the wetness from his mouth down the shaft, with just the right amount of pressure and rhythm that he knows drives Ten crazy.

And then he opens his mouth again, and whatever thoughts had been in Ten’s’ head promptly evaporate as Johnny swallows him down, the slick drag of his tongue against the underside of Ten’s cock punching the air right out of Ten’s lungs.

“Fuck!” Ten swears, clenching one hand in the sheets and sinking the other into Johnny’s hair as he tries to still the eager hitch of his own hips. He can’t help the aborted thrust he makes at the feel of Johnny’s mouth around him, so wet and warm and intoxicating. “Fuck, _Johnny.”_

Johnny grins around his cock, and _ugh -_ it’s such a _Johnny_ thing that Ten’s heart swells and his tongue twitches in Johnny’s mouth. The reaction makes Johnny’s eyes crease with amusement, and he wriggles his tongue against the crown, sucks gently in time with the careful rhythm of his mouth bobbing up and down Ten’s cock.

Goddamnit; Johnny knows exactly what Ten likes. He isn't going to last very long like this - and he knows that getting off is the point, but _still._

It’s something Ten wants to burn into his memory, this image of Johnny’s mouth wrapped around his cock, cheeks flushed and sweat clinging to his muscular shoulders as he works Ten towards orgasm. He’s still wearing that fucking _vest,_ too. Kick It is going to be completely ruined for Ten after this.

That’s okay. _This_ visual is more than worth it.

Johnny pulls off with a wet pop, moving to brace one forearm across Ten’s hips to - _fuck_ , to keep him pinned in place as Johnny works over him with his mouth. Ten knows Johnny’s strong enough to hold him down, but it’s another thing to _feel_ it _._ And Ten’s not afraid to admit that he’s been thinking a _lot_ about Johnny’s arms, even before he saw the music video. 

Not to mention - Johnny’s lips are spit-slicked and puffy, so fucking filthy. It’s a really fucking good look on him. 

“You taste so good, baby,” Johnny says; a tremor runs up Ten’s spine at the pet name. Only Johnny gets to call him that. “You wanna come in my mouth?”

Ten swallows thickly. His cock throbs in Johnny’s grip, where he continues to pump Ten lazily as he smirks, waits for Ten’s response. Like _that_ isn’t answer enough. “ _Please.”_

It’s not gonna take much at this point, if Ten’s being honest - he’s been worked up since _before_ he made the trek over to Johnny’s dorm in the freezing March weather, and with Johnny actually between his legs, he doesn’t stand a chance. He flexes his thighs, squeezing Johnny’s chest with his knees to keep him close, to feel their bare skin together. Every warm point of contact where they touch feels over-sensitive, like every nerve is directly connected to Ten’s cock. He groans at the feeling of Johnny’s muscles shifting against him as Johnny settles down again, lapping at the precome that wells at the tip of Ten’s cock and grinning.

God, he’s so _wet._ Ten’s not one to be easily embarrassed, but - fuck. Johnny always seems to get him like this.

Johnny doesn’t even need to answer with words - just the sight of his hazy, lust-clouded eyes and the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth is enough to make Ten’s dick pulse, another ooze of precome dribbling from the crown. They _both_ moan when Johnny wraps his lips around Ten’s cock again; the vibrations from Johnny’s voice make Ten shake, writhing against the sheets, dizzy with the pleasure crawling up his spine. He feels Johnny’s arm flex, keeping his hips in place - Ten hadn’t even been aware he was arching into him, into the hot, wet cavern of Johnny’s mouth - and he whines, helpless to his desire.

If the hand he has clenched in Johnny’s hair hurts, Johnny doesn’t say anything - well, he doesn’t do anything besides groan again as he sucks on Ten’s cock, swallowing around him before he pulls off just enough to breathe. He builds a steady rhythm, a push-pull that’s fucking filthy-hot and _sounds_ just as dirty, all wet noises and breathy sounds from the both of them. 

Ten can’t - Ten can’t keep himself still, the rock of his hips entirely out of his control as Johnny blows him, puts every little thing he knows about Ten into action to get him off. He’s so fucking _good_ at this, gently pinching at Ten’s hip when his eyes close to make sure he keeps watching, his big fingers circling Ten’s cock where his mouth can’t reach. Ten can feel the full-body flush on his own skin as it works its way down his neck and chest, pleasure rushing through him. 

Johnny’s touch lights him up from the inside out - or it least, that’s the way it _feels,_ with all of his senses bombarded with _Johnny, Johnny, Johnny._

“Johnny,” Ten moans, scrubbing his fingers through his own hair as his other hand pushes Johnny’s sweaty bangs away from his face. “Johnny, I’m -”

“Yeah?” When Johnny pulls off Ten’s cock, his lips are so shiny and slick, voice so sex-rough and deep, that Ten’s belly clenches with heat. “Yeah, you gonna come for me, Ten?”

Ten feels so clouded with pure want that it’s hard to form words, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. He can only flex his fingers in Johnny’s locks, whimpering as Johnny exhales a hot breath over his sensitive cock, every nerve bright and alive. “I’m - _Johnny -”_

“Yeah, I got you, I got you,” Johnny murmurs, eyes dark. He mercifully laps at Ten’s cock, pressing a kiss to the reddened head before swallowing him down once more. 

And keeps going. Ten shouts, swearing as he feels the tip of his cock nudge the softness at the back of Johnny’s throat. It’s a real fucking good thing that Johnny’s pinned Ten’s hips down, because Ten can _feel_ his dick throb, ass flexing as his body tries to seek out more of this pleasure. 

It’s - fuck, it’s so _good;_ Ten can feel his body wind tighter, blood roaring in his ears as Johnny steadily pushes him towards orgasm.

“Johnny,” Ten whines, every word falling from his mouth just adding to the litany that is Johnny’s name. Johnny increases his speed, sucking every time he rises up on Ten’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head - _god,_ Ten doesn’t know when Johnny figured out what gets him going, but it’s _working._

_Fuck,_ is it working on Ten.

A low moan builds in Ten’s throat, reverberating in his chest as his thighs start to shake. He can feel it now, the rhythmic clench of his own body, the cresting wave of heat up his spine and across his skin. Johnny must feel it, too - he sucks even harder, mouth wet and sloppy as his nostrils flare, taking Ten as deep as he can go - 

Ten _keens._

His orgasm crashes through him with a force that punches the air out of his lungs, back bowing against the bed as he convulses, coming - coming in _Johnny’s mouth, fuck._ Ten gasps, barely aware of the noises he’s making as Johnny hums, swallowing around him, so hot and tight and wet. Wave after wave wracks him as he pulses against Johnny’s tongue; it’s a long moment before Ten collapses back against the sheets, breathless and sweating and blinking bright spots of pleasure out of his vision.

The muscles in Ten’s thighs twitch with the aftershocks of orgasm, warmth now flooding his body as endorphins rush through him. Johnny pulls off his over-sensitive cock with a wet sound, resting his sweaty forehead against Ten’s inner thigh as they both just breathe.

 _Fuck,_ that’s the hardest Ten’s come in - in a long time. Probably since the last time he and Johnny spent a full night together.

Ten swallows, hitching up on his elbow so that he can look down the length of his body to where Johnny still sits between his knees, fingers curled around Ten’s thighs. Johnny’s already watching him when their eyes meet, and - well, Ten knows _he’s_ the one that just came, but Johnny looks nearly as wrecked as Ten feels. He’s fully flushed in the face, lips spit-slick and swollen even as he grins up at Ten, panting.

And then, of course, Johnny shifts up from his place against Ten’s thigh, revealing that while he did a valiant job in swallowing, a gleaming trail of come has leaked from the corner of his mouth, a swipe of white over the plush pink of Johnny’s lower lip.

Oh, fuck. 

Because Ten knows what’s going to happen a moment before it plays out, from the dark heat in Johnny’s eyes and the amusement playing on Johnny’s face, in the cocky quirk of his eyebrows. All Ten can do is watch as Johnny brings his thumb up to his mouth, wiping the come from his bottom lip with two flicks, smirking.

And then he sticks his thumb in his mouth to suck it clean.

Ten groans, spent dick twitching in interest where it lays soft and damp against his belly. Goddamnit, Johnny really _is_ going to be the death of him one of these days.

“ _Fuck,_ you’re unbelievable,” Ten exhales, still trying to catch his breath. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest - especially when he extracts his hand from Johnny’s hair and Johnny grabs it before he can pull away completely, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of his wrist. Ten’s throat tightens; he pats the bed beside him before it shows on his face. “Come on, get up here already. That was so good, what the _fuck.”_

“Yeah?” Johnny smiles, wincing a little as he rises out of his kneeling position to collapse on the sheets next to Ten, wasting no time in gathering Ten against his damp chest. The vest is soaked through with sweat; if Johnny has to return it to the costuming department, he better get it cleaned first. 

They’re both a little disgusting, actually - the slick on Johnny’s stomach has started to get tacky, and Johnny got Ten nice and wet - but Ten presses closer anyway, sighing into the skin-on-skin contact. “Everything you wanted it to be?”

Ten smiles, tilts his head up to meet Johnny’s mouth in a lingering kiss. He can taste himself on Johnny’s tongue, still, and he hums contentedly when they part again. Ten smirks at Johnny’s flushed cheeks and wrecked hair - he’s never looked better.

“ _Almost_ everything,” Ten murmurs, smoothing his fingers down the planes of Johnny’s chest to the waistband of his sweats - and the obvious bulge still tenting it. “Need a hand with this?”

Johnny laughs, fingers squeezing Ten’s hips. “If you’re offering.”

“Of course,” Ten rolls his eyes, playing with the waistband with his fingertips, dragging the pads of his fingers along Johnny’s belly and just barely dipping inside before pulling away again. “I always like getting to touch you.”

He doesn’t tease for long, only until Johnny whines a breathy _Ten, come on_ into his hair - and then he slides his hand into Johnny’s sweats for real, loosely fisting his cock. Just the heft of it in his hand is almost enough to make Ten wish he could go again tonight; Johnny’s cock is blood-hot and so wet at the tip, so thick where Ten’s is lean. 

They wiggle Johnny’s sweatpants down over his hips together, leaving it bunched at his knees - like this, it’s enough for Ten to flick with his wrist like he knows Johnny loves. And it’s gratifying to feel how hard Johnny is from getting his mouth on Ten, and how _responsive_ he is _-_ both of them are on a hair-trigger tonight, it seems. 

Ten presses his smile into the skin at Johnny’s neck, leaving a string of wet kisses up to Johnny’s ear. It’s probably weird that he has so many soft, warm, gooey feelings in his chest while he’s got his hand around Johnny’s dick, right? Maybe. Ten has no idea anymore; he’s lived with his love for Johnny tucked under his ribs for so long that it feels as easy as breathing.

He thumbs over the head of Johnny’s cock, spreading the precome with a swirl around the crown. Johnny groans, hips hitching as he fucks a little into Ten’s grip, sliding through the clutch of Ten’s fingers in an easy glide.

In the end, it doesn’t take much more than that - Johnny must have been really worked up from seeing Ten come apart in his mouth. All it takes is for Ten to increase his rhythm, pushing closer so that they’re skin-to-skin from shoulder to thigh, his knuckles and the head of Johnny’s cock trapped against Ten’s slick belly. He murmurs encouragement into Johnny’s ear and grins at the bitten-off gasp that sounds like his name when Johnny comes, curling like a comma over Ten, trying for a kiss but mostly just smearing their mouths together as he writhes.

Honestly, it’s pretty perfect just like that, at least in Ten’s opinion.

Johnny does kiss him properly after he’s come down again, when he manages to have enough motor control to rub a comforting hand up Ten’s bare arm and then up to his nape to gently guide Ten in the kiss. 

Ten hums into it, unable to help himself. It feels just on this side of too dangerous, to let himself indulge in these tender moments with Johnny. Not when they aren’t together - not in the way Ten wants them to be.

“You’re amazing,” Johnny says, tucking a stray hair behind Ten’s ear when they pull apart. His fingertips linger on Ten’s skin; Ten tries not to be hyper-aware of it. And fails, of course. Because it’s Johnny. 

Ten raises an eyebrow, grinning despite himself. “It was just a handjob.”

“It wasn’t _just_ a handjob, it was - the whole thing,” Johnny says, eyes bright and warm and amused. His damp hair is falling into his face and he looks unbearably soft, content. He smiles at Ten, and something in Ten’s belly twists pleasantly. What he wouldn’t give to always be on the receiving end of these looks. “I mean it. You’re amazing.”

“Well,” Ten starts, hoping that the flush he feels creeping into his cheeks isn’t too obvious - or, at least, that it can be chalked up to their… activities. “Let’s just say I was particularly inspired.”

“I’m glad,” Johnny laughs, and then groans as some of the come coating his stomach starts to dribble down his side, heading for the sheets. “Ah, fuck - I knew that was going to happen -”

Ten pats Johnny’s chest, already sitting up as he chuckles. “Let me get you something for that, yeah?”

Thankfully, Johnny still keeps his hand towels where Ten remembers, and he wipes himself clean before climbing back onto the bed and handing it to Johnny, who gives him a grateful smile.

“How the hell did you manage to take that off set, anyway?” Ten asks, plucking at the satin vest still clinging to Johnny’s shoulders. It has some very obvious damp patches where he sweat through the thin fabric - thank god they didn’t get anything more incriminating on it.

Johnny waggles his eyebrows, wiping down his damp chest - and okay, maybe Ten’s not done ogling him, yet. “I walked out with it on. Somehow they didn’t notice it was missing - I _did_ have a sweatshirt over it, like tonight. I think we’re slated to wear the outfits for one of our live performances, so I’ll just bring it back then.”

Ten eyes the fabric as Johnny sits up to strip it off, throwing both the used towel and the black satin vest in the direction of his hamper. Johnny kicks off his sweats, too, before sitting back on the bed. 

“Better get it dry cleaned,” Ten says, one eyebrow quirked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Johnny chuckles, collapsing back into bed again - and holding his hands out, wiggling his fingers in Ten’s direction. “C’mere, you.”

And Ten’s helpless to this, too, snuggling back into Johnny’s side, resting his head on Johnny’s bare chest as Johnny presses a kiss into his hair. He sighs, skimming his fingers up and down the expanse of Johnny’s skin, still so warm everywhere they’re pressed together. Johnny tangles their feet, slipping his knee between Ten’s; well, that answers the question of where Ten’s sleeping tonight. There’s no way he’s going to be able to get up now, even if he wanted to.

He _doesn’t_ want to. Maybe it’s selfish, but he’ll take as much of Johnny as he can get. Also, there’s no fucking way Ten’s walking outside in that weather again tonight.

“But really,” Johnny says, breaking the comfortable silence, “you liked the music video?”

Ten laughs, pushing up on his elbows so he can make an exasperated face that Johnny will actually see. “What part of _wow_ wasn’t clear enough that I liked it? I came in your mouth about it, Johnny.”

Johnny smiles up at him, unphased. “Hey, we did work hard on it! And I wanted to -”

“Yeah, use it as a thirst trap? Because you knew it would push my buttons -”

“And it did, didn’t it?” Johnny cracks a grin. He looks entirely unrepentant and entirely amused. “You caught me; what do you want me to say? Sorry I used our latest music video to sext my boyfriend into coming over in the cold-”

Ten blinks. Did he just hear - “Boyfriend?”

Johnny’s eyes go wide, and Ten feels him go stiff underneath him. “Uh, well. Uh.”

They stare at each other for a beat. Ten watches as Johnny’s face grows rather pink again, a flush that floods all the way up to Johnny’s ears. Underneath his palm, Ten can feel the trip of Johnny’s heart, a rapid tempo that nearly matches the rhythm of Ten’s own.

Maybe - maybe they _have_ been wanting the same thing this whole time. Heat spreads through Ten’s chest, a little tendril of hope uncurling.

“I mean,” Johnny says slowly, eyes tracking over Ten’s face, “I know we haven’t talked about it, but -”

“Johnny, I -” Ten swallows. His heart pounds in his ears, loud against the sudden hush between them. “I’m already yours. I’ve been yours since before we started doing this, probably, I -”

“You drive me crazy,” Johnny murmurs, reaching up to cup Ten’s jaw, gently thumbing his lower lip with something like reverence. “In a good way, Ten, I am _so_ into you.”

Warmth surges through Ten as he smiles against Johnny’s thumb. “The feeling is mutual.”

“ _Boyfriends,”_ Johnny repeats, eyes bright. “We did this kind of out of order, huh? I - oh! Should I ask you on a proper date first? Or -”

“Oh, no take-backsies,” Ten says, delighting in the way that Johnny’s eyes crinkle as he grins. Ten aims for casual, but he can hear his own voice - he knows he misses it by a mile. He sounds… stupidly fond, but that’s not really a surprise. “It’s official now. So: you knowingly tricked your _handsome, talented boyfriend_ into coming over in the freezing cold weather?”

“ _Trick_ is a strong word,” Johnny says, beaming up at him. He curls a hand over Ten’s hip, tugging him even closer. Like there’s anywhere they aren’t already pressed together at this point. “ _Trapped_ is more accurate. But I think he got what he wanted, in the end.”

“Mmm, you know...” Ten says, trailing off as he leans in again. He watches as Johnny’s eyes dip down to his lips - not even _trying_ to be subtle, and the knowledge makes butterflies start to riot in Ten’s stomach anew. And then Johnny meets Ten’s gaze again, eyes warm and full of something that - well. 

Ten loves that he can finally identify the look in Johnny’s eyes as _affection._

“You know, I think he did,” Ten smiles, and seals it with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

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